


Wicked Games

by VirtualRevolution



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Fucked Up Relationships, M/M, Murder, Pre-Canon, how to build an empire, i guess, little bit of character death, mormor, shit families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 16:37:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6666199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirtualRevolution/pseuds/VirtualRevolution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian has always been rather fearless. Ever since he had been able to walk, he had tried to sneak away from his parents. Exploring everything on his own, where no one cared for safety or some other bullshit. Where he could just run around, climb trees as high as he could, fall and just continue without necessarily having to see a doctor about it. <br/>But he also knows when it’s time to run. Like when you’re being shot at from about three or four different directions and you’re the only one there, that doesn’t want your death. But he knows he can’t just run away to save himself, because of that little Irish git, that is going to skin him, if he comes home, without having done his job. Sebastian knows, James would willingly risk his death, but he doesn’t hate him for it.<br/>If anything, he hates himself for what happened. Or rather, for the decisions he made. Or… maybe for ever talking to that stupid arsehole in that bloody pub.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wicked Games

**Author's Note:**

> If anything, he hates himself for what happened. Or rather, for the decisions he made. Or… maybe for ever talking to that stupid arsehole in that bloody pub.

Sebastian has always been rather fearless. Ever since he had been able to walk, he had tried to sneak away from his parents. Exploring everything on his own, where no one cared for safety or some other bullshit. Where he could just run around, climb trees as high as he could, fall and just continue without necessarily having to see a doctor about it.   
But he also knows when it’s time to run. Like when you’re being shot at from about three or four different directions and you’re the only one there, that doesn’t want your death. But he knows he can’t just run away to save himself, because of that little Irish git, that is going to skin him, if he comes home, without having done his job. Sebastian knows, James would willingly risk his death, but he doesn’t hate him for it.  
If anything, he hates himself for what happened. Or rather, for the decisions he made. Or… maybe for ever talking to that stupid arsehole in that bloody pub.  
It had been the exact day, that he had been dishonourably discharged and told to ‘never dare to go near this house ever again’ by his father, as his mother had been sobbing in the kitchen.  
***  
“You have been sighing on your beer at least three times, the last five minutes. You’re heating it up.”   
The cocky Irish accent was sweeping through the soft voice and made Sebastian look up, for the first time really paying attention to that guy that had been selling him one pint after the other.   
The bartender seemed way too young to actually work here, especially at this late hour, he seemed almost too innocent to even be in this part of the town, but there was something in his eyes. These dark, almost pitch-black, soulless eyes, that were fixed on Sebastian, as if he was reading his soul.  
“That’s none of your business, kid.”  
For a moment, the strange eyes narrowed, but then the boy just left with a shrug, moving to talk to other people who seemingly had nowhere else to go, just like Sebastian.  
Sebastian knew that he was lucky, he hadn’t been kicked out yet. The pub was almost empty, including him, there were like four people and the boy, still serving them drinks even though it was almost about two hours past closing time. From the corner of his eye, he could see the boy talking rather passionately with some older guy in a crumpled suit, that reminded him strangely of Sir Augustus – his father. The boy giggled and leant over the counter, as they continued, shoving another glass of scotch over to the man and suddenly it hit Sebastian, even with his mind dizzy from the lot of alcohol he had drunken until now. That little bastard was flirting. With a man, about three times older them himself.  
He downed his pint in one go and put it down again, making an unnecessary loud noise while at it, to draw the boys attention to himself again, but nothing happened. He wasn’t sure, whether he was imagining it or not, but he was pretty sure the boy only smirked for a moment, before concentrating on his flirting again.  
He even went to clean some of the tables, never breaking eye contact with the man for too long and Sebastian watched him kicking the two other men out, but he didn’t go near Sebastian again. About half an hour later, the boy was almost sitting in the other’s lap, listening and giggling and Sebastian found himself unable to just leave. He was kind of worried – maybe the boy had gotten himself drunk? No matter what, he couldn’t leave him with that old pervert. It didn’t seem right. 

Even when he went to take a piss, he was hurrying to get back and take care nothing would happen.  
When he got back, the boy was just locking the front door, leaning against it heavily, as he turned the key.   
“You really had to leave just when it got about serious, did ya?” The boy didn’t even turn around as he spoke and just did the rest of his clean-up.   
Sebastian raised an eyebrow and sat down again, where he had been. In front of him, another pint of Guinness.   
“Didn’t order ‘thing.” He could hear the slur in his own speech but didn’t care.  
“Let’s say it’s kind of a ... payment. For staying.”  
The boy turned around and shot him a smug grin. “You were worried; could almost feel it. I guess, you’d have stopped him from doing anything, right?”  
Sebastian just took a great sip of the drink in front of him.   
The boy returned to his place behind the bar, tossing the cloth, he had been cleaning with into a corner. “Aw, c’mon, you can’t afford to push away the only person who’d bother to speak to you. Military guy, just discharged, thrown out from home, I presume?”  
Sebastian narrowed his eyes at the boy this time, hands clenching into fists and he couldn’t even tell how it happened but suddenly he had him grabbed by his collar and pulled over the counter.  
“How do you bloody know that, you little tart?!”  
The boy smirked, laying a cool hand over Sebastian’s. “You’ve got it written all over you. Walk and behaviour tell me military service, the fact that you’re drinking like that, too grumpy to even notice the cheap girls throwing themselves at you tells me something happened, bad news, real bad. No dog tags around your neck anymore but hidden in your pocket. No military service anymore. Dishonourable discharge. And a posh guy like you is hardly walking around in those clothes or in these parts of town while being at home. No family would deny their son to come home after that kind of a situation, and if they did that would mean said guy is thrown out. Probably disowned even. You may close your mouth now.”  
Sebastian frowned and let go of the boy, leaning back.   
“I’m right, am I not?”  
“What was the whole act about anyway?”  
The boy smirked and shrugged. “It’s always the desperate people that come here. Talk to them and you can get anything you like – in my case information.”  
Frowning Sebastian caught himself tightening his grip around the pint. This boy was definitely not some normal schoolboy trying to make some money.   
“And information gets you further in this world.”  
“You’re a pretentious little twat, aren’t you?”  
“Anyway, with that old muppet” The boy grinned and slipped his hand into his back pocket retrieving something that looked an awful lot like some kind of ID, that was used to get access to areas in a military base.  
“Have you lost your mind? I should report this” Sebastian shook his head. “Why are you even showing me?”  
“You need a new job anyway.”  
This had him actually laughing. Sebastian shook his head in disbelieve. Right, he would play along with some kid from a back-alley pub. “Sorry, but I really think, I’m too old to play your little games with you, now be a good boy and return that.”  
Still chuckling he got up from his seat and turned to leave.  
“Sebastian Moran. I know your dad, Sir Augustus. Lord Moran, isn’t it?”  
Sebastian froze.  
“You’ll have literally no money left in a few days if you continue like this. Don’t even think about the money you’ll have to spend on B&Bs. Nobody will want to give you work that goes beyond cleaning some warehouse. Not as soon as they’ll find out exactly how naughty you’ve been. And considering your – let’s call it – slight aggression problem won’t be helping either.”  
He turned his head, looking back at the boy, a smug smirk on the innocent looking features. Black eyes even colder, as he was reading over Sebastian’s ID card. His hand went to his left back pocket, searching for his wallet but the boy was just holding it up, waving it around to catch his attention. “Don’t bother. I borrowed it.”   
“You don’t know anything about me.” Sebastian felt his throat dry out. Nobody had been able to steal anything from him, never.  
“Yet.” The boy looked him directly in the eyes and it felt like there was something, like he could snap his fingers and Sebastian would fall over, dead.  
“I…”  
“Don’t bother. You’re a sniper. I assume you’re good. And even though that isn’t really relevant yet” again that little git stressed the ‘yet’ far too much “you’ll be useful even like that.”  
“Useful?”  
Again he was being ignored.   
“There are a few people who would like to…” The boy paused, looking up at the ceiling as if he was searching for words but Sebastian had the idea, that he was just being dramatic, still he didn’t say anything about it. “...beat the shit out of me.”  
Sebastian snorted. “How unexpected. So basically what you want me to do is make sure to keep your 15-year-old arse safe?”  
“I’m seventeen, thank you. But yes, that’s the idea.”  
Sebastian kept silence for a moment. He walked back and snatched his wallet out of the other’s hand again, along with his ID. “Now why would I want to do that?”  
“Because you’ll be bored with just cleaning old warehouses.”  
Sebastian stared at him, as if he wasn’t sure, whether that boy had lost his mind or if it was him, that was starting to go insane. Just for still being here. For still listening. For fucking considering.  
“And because I won’t fail. I never fail.”  
“Everybody fucks up at some point.”  
The boy considered for a bit.   
“Maybe. But if so, I already did and I won’t do so again. Just like you.”  
Shaking his head, Sebastian chuckled. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t plan those things. I’ve fucked up so often, I probably will do it again.”  
“You will not, not as long as you do as I say.”  
“You’re seventeen. How about you think about going to school for a little longer and think about ruling people another time?”  
“I’ve started university two years ago, I’m already thinking about education a lot, thank you. Ruling people, though” He smirked “is even more interesting.”  
Sebastian felt like he shouldn’t have said that. That could have been a mistake.  
“I didn’t mean, actually ‘ruling’, you know that right?”  
“Of course” The boy drawled but his expression made it obvious, that he enjoyed the sound of it.   
“What’s your name anyway?” he tried to change the subject.  
“James Moriarty.”  
***  
Sebastian was freezing. Why did that little git always have to make him wait? Especially now in the middle of fucking December.   
They knew each other for a bit more than a year now and Sebastian was still regretting coming to that pub, that particular pub on that every particular day, every minute of it.   
He still didn’t have too much money, he still didn’t know too much about James and the worst thing was, that the boy in return, seemed to know /everything/. Well, not really, but it tended to be scary, how much he could deduce no matter what happened in Sebastian’s life. Not that there was much happening without James having an influence on it. They hadn’t seen each other for a month and to be honest, Sebastian had enjoyed every second of it. He had gotten a job, nothing special, just enough to pay the rent of his crappy flat, where he couldn’t fit in more than a bed, a table and the suitcase where he stored his clothes in and the obligatory bottle scotch that made his life at least bearable.   
Rubbing his hands against each other to keep them warm, he leant against a wall, asking himself, why he hadn’t just ignored James’ request to meet him here. He was an adult for god’s sake, there was no need to play stupid little games with some teenager, trying to rebel or whatever it was that was James was trying to do.  
“C’mon.” The soft voice made him look up, but James didn’t even stop to see if he was following or not.  
“Yeah, nice to see you, too” Sebastian all but groaned in annoyance as he followed the kid. They soon left the reasonable part of London and after a while, that seemed like an agonising eternity, they arrived at some kind of old warehouse.   
“What, do you want me to clean up?” Sebastian joked – hoping it would stay a joke – and a wide smirk spread across his face when James just rolled his eyes.   
“Obviously not. I just need to talk to you and we might need a little privacy while doing so.”  
“You’re not getting paranoid, are you, kiddo? It’s hard enough with you as it is.”  
James turned his head and grinned like a madman. “Just because you’re paranoid, don’t mean they’re not after you.” His face went back to serious in no time and he just shook his head, before turning to climb through a broken window.  
Sebastian frowned as he followed him. “Was that Kurt fucking Cobain? I told you not to quote Kurt Cobain on me! That guy is shit.”  
“You are shit.”  
Sebastian didn’t know why, but the boy had fallen in love with that hideous band. He owned every single record. Sebastian only knew about them, because James wouldn’t keep his mouth shut about it.   
When James finally stopped again, Sebastian raised an eyebrow as a silent question.  
“Alright. I need you to keep your mouth shut about this one.”  
“James, seriously, I’ve better things to talk about than your life. Besides, who would I want to bother anyway?”  
“I’m serious.”  
“So am I. Just tell me, I promise, I won’t say a word about this to anyone” he added quickly as he saw a flash of anger in those black haunting eyes.  
For a while Sebastian was just being stared at, then James turned to pull on one of the old pipes until it gave in and one side almost fell down.   
With a strange noise, something fell out of it. Sebastian squatted down and looked at it. A pair of old sneakers.   
“That’s.…” He frowned and looked up at James. “That’s... What is that? Besides from a pair of shoes.”  
James sat down on the ground beside him.  
“They belong to a kid I knew from school. I hated him. He wouldn’t leave me alone.”  
“So you snatched them away?” Sebastian chuckled and had the sudden urge to ruffle James’ hair as he watched him having an almost pouty mood.  
“No. I poisoned his medication and he drowned at a swimming competition. The shoes were the only evidence, I had to hide them.”  
Right, scratch the thing with the urge. This was crazy. Did the boy just confess murder?  
“What?”  
“He had eczema problems and used a cream against it. When it was only enough for one more use, I poisoned it. I had all time in the world to study his habits. I knew he was going through one pot of cream a month. So at the last days of it, I did it and it took effect while he was winning some swimming race. A fit in a pool is hardly a good thing.”  
Sebastian watched James, unable to say something.   
“I was there. The first few minutes nobody noticed. They thought he was just being ridiculous because he was happy to have won. He was known to do all sorts of stupid things after winning. But when he wouldn’t come up for air again, everyone started to panic. It took them about five minutes in total to get him out. He was in a coma for almost two years before they finally pulled the plug.”  
James took one of the shoes and looked at it as if he could relive that moment through it.   
“I told him to stop bothering me but he wouldn’t listen.”  
Finally, Sebastian remembered how to speak.   
“You are fucking crazy.”  
James only shrugged. Almost as if he hadn’t heard him. “You’re just getting that now?”  
“How old…?”  
“I was thirteen, he was about twelve.”  
“How..”  
“I got the poison from the chemistry lab. It’s been there for ages no teacher would ever use it. I don’t even think they’ve ever noticed that it is missing.”  
“And what happened afterwards?”  
Again, James only shrugged. “They concluded it was an accident. Epilepsy. No further investigations. That was it.”  
Sebastian could only shake his head.   
“Why are you telling me about that?”  
James shrugged and for a moment he seemed incredible young but the next second he was just as soulless and insane as always. It occurred to Sebastian that that had been his first impression of the boy anyway, maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. Maybe he could have seen something like that coming.  
“James… I’m going to ask you something and you’re going to tell me the truth about it.”  
The kid looked up at him, annoyance and frustration burning in his eyes as always when he was being told what to do.   
“Your parents. They are dead, aren’t they?”  
James’ eyes narrowed and he clenched his hands into fists.  
“You’re from Ireland. But you live in London. Somehow nobody seems to care about you. You don’t have anyone, am I right?”  
Sebastian had seen James do this countless times over the past year, deducing and just saying out loud what people would rather just hide. It was impressive and he knew he would never be as good as the boy but doing it himself wasn’t half as much fun than what James made it look like.  
“James.”  
It seemed as if the boy was far away, spaced out completely.  
“James, answer me.” Sebastian reached out and grabbed the other one’s shoulder. “Answer me.”  
“You’re mostly right.”  
“Where do you have the money from? How are you able to survive here and pay for university?” He didn’t doubt that James really was studying. He had met him in the library once, seeing him do math homework. In fact, that was the only day he had seen him in a mood he would almost describe as happy.  
“My father’s ‘life assurance’ as he called it. He had money, a lot of it, hidden so that nobody would ever find it. He planned to go away and take it with him. Only told me about it because he got drunk.”  
Sebastian kept quiet. “I did it after Carl’s death.” James nodded towards the shoes. “I was still in euphoria.” He snorted and shook his head.  
“What about your mother?”  
“She is alright. Still home.”  
“Does she know?”  
“No. I cut the brake hose and spiked his drink. People saw that he had been drinking and driving and nobody inspected the car. It was luck, I’ll admit that.”  
“And afterwards, you just ran off?”  
James shook his head.   
“I told my mother, I’d have a scholarship in London.”  
“A thirteen-year-old boy?”  
James shrugged. “It’s not really a lie. I did try to get one and they told me, I could start as soon as I turned fifteen. Which I did. It was just one and a half year I had to wait. I graduated from college in that time, using my father’s money until I got a job. Not that one in the pub, another one. But it showed me just how stupid everyone gets as long as you’re charming and nice, they’ll just tell you everything. It’s ridiculous.”  
“Like you’re doing – right now.”  
“Maybe, yes,” James smiled at that. It was a delicate smile, lasting for a while but then his eyes got dark again “you aren’t freaking out.”  
“I was thinking about it, but I came to the conclusion, that I should probably have seen something like that coming.”  
***  
“What are you doing here?!”  
“Waiting.”  
Sebastian looked up at James. He had gotten a little bit taller since he saw him last, but all in all, he was still tiny – probably would be forever.  
After James’ confession, they had only met a couple of times before they both got on with their lives. Sebastian hated to admit it, but he had missed the little git. Keeping him safe had been a bit of a frustrating task, due to all the people he pissed off on a daily basis, but at least there had been a little sense in his life.   
Stuck in a boring job, with boring women around whenever he felt like it and boring things to do – that really wasn’t the life he wanted to lead.  
“I can see that. What for?”  
Sebastian sighed and opened his old backpack.   
“Is that really correct or are you trying to kid the world?” He took out a book, brand new, ‘The dynamics of an asteroid’.   
“People are saying there’s no one who can read it ‘til the end and understand it.”  
James shrugged. “I know. That’s why they probably won’t ever use it, but I can’t fix it. Can’t fix people’s stupidity. Why did you buy that?”  
“Had your name on it and I wondered what you were up to lately. Clearly not stealing IDs anymore.”  
James flashed a grin at the other man.  
“I’ve just been offered to teach at some small university around here. I guess, I’ll take it. Might be a nice way to kill some time.”  
“That would be a proper job, being a professor usually isn’t some kind of a hobby. Especially in your age. 20 are you?”  
“22.”  
James walked past Sebastian but the elder followed him. “Alright, I know you. That’s not everything is it?”  
“Whatever could you be referring to?” There was still that grin on James’ features. Not like the last times, Sebastian had seen him. This James clearly was much more happy to be alive. Less pale even. Only the eyes hadn’t changed. Still soulless and pitch-black.  
“People can change, you know.”  
“Not if they did what you did as a child.”  
Sebastian would never blurt something about that out, of course not, but referring to it should be alright, even in public – especially after the kid was known as a mathematics genius. There was a possibility that he was talking about that, wasn’t there?  
“Oh, let these old stories rest” James smirked. “I was young and stupid back then. Now I know much better. And I know how to make things go much smoother.”  
Sebastian wasn’t sure why exactly but he felt an uneasy shiver running down his spine. “I bet you do.”  
They walked in complete silence for a while, until James stopped. “Well, I’m home. Bye.”  
He turned towards an old building, getting a key out of his pocket.   
“You’re not going to invite me in?”  
“Why would I?”  
James didn’t turn around but he had stopped as if he wanted Sebastian to give him a good reason. As if he actually cared about what Sebastian would say. No. That wasn’t like him. Maybe he just wanted….  
“Please.”  
“Well, that sounds better.”  
“God, you’re a royal pain in the arse.”  
Sebastian almost jumped at the sound of a chuckle coming from the younger man. It was the first time he actually heard him laugh – apart from the flirting thing back in the pub, but that hadn’t been real so he didn’t count it.  
“C’mon, Moran.”  
Shaking his head he followed him upstairs and into a flat. To be completely honest, Sebastian had expected it to be much cleaner. But seemingly the boy was a walking mess. “Oh stop staring. Like your mother wasn’t the one tidying your room.” Sebastian shrugged. “She wasn’t. We had maids.”  
James turned around and wrinkled his nose. “You’re spoiled.”  
“Not that much, I promise.” The elder grinned and flopped down on an armchair, after lifting the few books that had been laying on it.  
“Mathematics? Seriously? Mathematics and the universe? Christ, kid, you’re such a nerd.”  
“Bet you used to beat up kids like me.”  
Sebastian shrugged again. “Yeah, probably. I guess I would have been careful with what I’m doing around you, though. Apparently you don’t just take it if someone bullies you. Heard something about drowning.”  
James went into the small kitchen, coming back with two glasses and a bottle of fine scotch. “Christ, where did you get this?”  
“Apparently, my dad had another place where he hid ‘important stuff’ – that’s how my mum put it. She found it while cleaning the house or something… Never touched any of it. A bit of money – not much but well – books, a gun, and this bottle. My mother said I should save it for a special occasion, but really, I don’t see why I should.”   
“Or you call our meeting a special…”  
“Please, don’t be daft.”  
Sebastian only rolled his eyes but took the hint along with one glass. James sat down on the couch, opposite the other man.  
“So you went to see your mother.”  
“Had to. She was dying.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“No need. It was about time. Brain tumour.”  
James looked at the scotch as if he was remembering something, but soon he just shook his head, frowning before he focussed on Sebastian again. “Why didn’t you just go on with your own life?”  
Sebastian frowned. “I did.”  
“No, you didn’t. Boring, is it?” James stretched like a cat and downed the scotch. “Well, I guess I can’t be the only one to be bored.”  
Sebastian shook his head and opened his mouth to say something but James cut him off. “Before you say something that is going to make me hate you, shall I show you what I did with those stolen IDs?”  
It took him a moment until Sebastian nodded. “Yes… yes, show me.”  
James grinned and got up, refilling their glasses before he led his guest towards to his bedroom.  
“I told you, I love getting information. You can use information. I mean, sure... simple blackmail is pretty boring and I retired from killing people myself.”  
There it was. The moment, that Sebastian had been equally frightened of and excited for. James sat down on his bed, pulling a laptop on his lap. He indicated to Sebastian to sit down next to him. “I’ve been fooling around for a bit and now I have access to – let’s say some of the more exclusive – information of our beloved army.”  
“You infiltrated the British military?”  
“Yep.”  
James typed something and Sebastian just shook his head, as the younger opened one document after the other. “You’ll love this” the boy suddenly muttered, opening a file. The picture of an old man was now to be seen on the screen. 

‘SIR AUGUSTUS MORAN’  
***  
“I can see him.”  
‘Good. Don’t just shoot him, though. Wait until he’s with her.’  
“Yes, I know. You told me a hundred times.”  
Sebastian was kneeling on a rooftop, freezing. Again it was winter and again his life had changed completely. Over was the time of a boring, ordinary life and now – again – every day he wondered why he had hated it. His hands were embedded in black leather gloves as his fingers were curled around the trigger of his rifle.   
‘You are stupid enough to still mess it up and believe me, I won’t lift to finger to get you out of trouble.’  
James was in a worse mood than usual. He had just been ‘politely asked’ to pack his stuff and never get back to the university where he had been teaching for about two years now. No matter how careful James was, rumours had spread. The students had loved him as a professor, no wonder, he could be so damn charming and he seemed like a young, understanding professor. But at the same time, they had been terrified to make a mistake. The first two rows of seats had always been empty and up until today, Sebastian would always make fun of James for that. Now… not that much of a good timing.   
Rolling his eyes Sebastian just continued to stare at his victim. Not his first one. Not even his first one under James’ command. And most likely not his last. But this one still was special. Because as soon as he would pull the trigger, it wouldn’t just be a job – no. This one would be a statement for James and personal revenge for Sebastian.  
The little Irish git hadn’t wanted to take that step yet, but now that he had no job anymore, the time was just right.   
“Now I can risk... No, now I’ll have to risk it, to make other people notice… us.”  
It still took that bastard effort to use that word. Sebastian would mostly just shake his head in slight annoyance. They had moved in together and now even a supposed quiet night was just as unnerving as a day of work.  
“There she is… well her car. No, wait… she’s getting out.  
‘Wait until they are about to get into that hotel and then do it.’  
Sebastian nodded to himself and aimed for his target.  
‘Try just one shot for both of them.’  
“Whatever you say.”  
‘That’ll look better.’  
“Sure.”  
Sebastian waited until the man did what he always did, playing gentleman, holding the door open and let her go in first. When they were almost standing in line, she in front of him, he pulled the trigger and watched his father and his extramarital affair collapse to the ground. Dead.  
People were screaming as Sebastian packed his things and left the roof, lightening a cigarette. His father had always had someone beside Sebastian’s mother. Ever since he could think and the sniper knew just how much his mother was suffering because Lord Moran didn’t even bother to hide it. As a child, he hadn’t understood why she wouldn’t just leave him. Now, as a grown man, stuck in a kind of relationship (or maybe babysitter job) with some sadistic lunatic, he still didn’t.  
The police would arrive soon. Of course. August Moran was – no, had been – one of the most powerful people in London. Sebastian chuckled, finding himself rather light-headed as he made his way back to their flat, the big sports bag with the rifle inside over his right shoulder.   
He knew that his mother hadn’t loved the man, that she would get his money, now that he was dead. But he also knew that she wouldn’t get happy, no matter what. Over the years, she had gotten depressed. Highly. He knew she was on psychotropic drugs all the time. Or other drugs, if it was really bad.  
But it didn’t matter. He hadn’t done it for her anyway. Not even for himself. No, he had done it for some arsehole, about eight years younger than himself. Christ, sometimes he really wondered what his life had come to, but it probably could be worse.

When he came home, James was already sitting on the couch, knees drawn to his chest, his laptop balancing on them. “So?”  
“One shot.”  
“Good.”  
James didn’t look up, but he smiled slightly, the first time since he had been removed as a professor and Sebastian sighed relieved but silently. “Can’t wait for it to appear in the news.”  
He yawned and slumped down next to the other.   
***  
After the downfall of Lord Moran, it had taken them about two years of hard work, endless nights without any sleep and most of their patience but finally they were on the very tiptop. Everyone knew the name ‘Moriarty’ even though no one dared to actually speak about him. Nowadays James wasn’t chaotic anymore. Now he was no longer quiet, no longer at least a bit sane.  
Sebastian didn’t care. He stayed with him because he had nowhere else to go. What was he supposed to do anyway?  
Whenever James threatened to kill him, or rather to make someone kill him, Sebastian only shrugged and maybe acted a little scared, just to calm him down again. 

 

At some point – and Sebastian really couldn’t tell exactly when – their dynamic changed. It all went very downhill.  
“Seb!”  
“Mhm?” Sebastian hummed from the kitchen. It was 6 am and since he could afford the luxury of sleeping in most days, he wasn’t much of a morning person anymore. But it wasn’t important anyway, most days he had to do very little. Most things seemed to just work. Without either James nor Sebastian having to do much about it. Their network certainly was the best.   
“I thought it through!”  
“Great.” Unenthusiastic. James had thought it through so many times over the last few weeks, that Sebastian had stopped to count.   
“No, I mean it!”  
James stepped into the kitchen with ruffled hair and just in boxer shorts. Sebastian had forced him to sleep last night by slipping a sleeping pill into his coffee. Ironic enough.  
Slumping down on a chair, James yawned. “I’ll make him kill himself.”  
Sebastian rolled his eyes. He didn’t remember a conversation that hadn’t been about Sherlock fucking Holmes. At least none in the last six months.  
“What?!”  
“Nothing. Just… why should he do that?”  
“Because if he doesn’t you’ll kill his loved ones… Well, you and – let me see… two other gunmen. Johnny-boy, that detective inspector, and that landlady seem to be about everyone he has. Pathetic.”  
“Whereas your circle of friends seems endless.” Sebastian’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and the words were out before he could think about it. He hadn’t seen the mood swing coming, even though he probably should have. James’s face went expressionless and it his right eye twitched for a moment.   
“Oh, I know. I don’t have friends because I don’t /want/ friends. It’s a miracle I still keep you around.”  
That didn’t hurt at all, Sebastian supposed as he put a cup of black tea in front of James.   
“That reminds me, if that is drugged again, you’ll never be happy again.”  
James left again, returning to his work and Sebastian left the house to meet up with some clients and a few of their people. James had almost forgotten what their empire was really about. As if it existed solemnly to entertain a certain consulting detective. It made Sebastian sick. He detested Sherlock Holmes – even more than his own father.  
If only there was a chance that James wouldn’t completely lose it, if he’d just shoot Sherlock. Then this whole thing would be over. But no, Sebastian didn’t think James would recover from it and as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t let that happen. Sometimes, when he thought about the tiny, insane boy he had first met in that pub, it almost hurt to see him now. Obsessed. Mad. Ravaged. Cold. Violent.  
Dark circles under his eyes at all times.   
He also no longer attended meetings or saw clients himself. In the past, he would, in some kind of costume or something. He had loved it. Amused by how stupid most of them were. How they couldn’t tell that the small man with the ruffled hair, that was leaning against the wall behind Sebastian, pretending not to listen was, in fact, Moriarty.  
Nobody had ever really known what James looked like, even though most of their people had seen him so very often. At least not until James had thought of stealing the crown jewels just to show off his power.

It was only a few weeks later, that shit really went down.  
Sebastian had seen in coming, somehow, but still it took him by complete and utter surprise.  
The showdown had actually sounded reasonable. Either Sherlock Holmes killed himself or Sebastian and the others would shoot his dearest friends. Sebastian was rather weary when James actually decided that it wasn’t necessary to threaten Mycroft Holmes’ life since he was pretty sure that the big brother would take revenge but James had shrugged it off.   
“In that case, life isn’t going to get boring, that’s what.”  
Sebastian had eventually agreed, what else could he do, anyway?   
The day that James had left to go and play his last round with Sherlock up at the rooftop had been the first time he had asked Sebastian for something. The first time he had actually asked. Actually said ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Sebastian had handed him the gun without another word or thought, too distracted by the politeness.   
They had placed a tracker on John Watson so that Sebastian had been able to know exactly where he was at all times and could follow him around with enough distance to not draw the suspicious doctor’s attention to himself.   
Finally, he waited for John to arrive at St. Bart’s – after discovering what Sherlock did, there didn’t seem to exist one thing that could have stopped John from hurrying to his friend’s side. Sebastian snorted.   
As always he had an earpiece, hearing every word that both – Jim and Sherlock – were speaking.  
‘Staying alive... so boring, isn’t it?’  
Sebastian sat back, sighing at the dramatic behaviour.   
‘Nobody seems to get the joke. But you do.‘  
‘Of course.’  
‘Atta boy.’  
“James, for fuck’s sake, stop playing already.”  
‘Just trying to have some fun..’  
Sebastian knew that this was meant for him, not Holmes. But he also knew that James’ attention immediately snapped back to his prey again. Something was off. James always loved to play at first. Like some kitten, only tiny scratches but as soon as he was fed up, he ended the games. But not with Sherlock. For some reason, James remained like before. He didn’t show much of the killer, that he could be. Sebastian focussed on him some more. It would still take some time until John would arrive anyway.  
It all seemed to take hours, though, of course, Sebastian knew it was only a few minutes.  
‘What?! What is it?! What did I miss?’  
Sebastian thought his heart would skip not one but several beats. James never missed a fucking thing. Never. That boy... no man was a bloody genius. He simply couldn’t miss an important detail. Not if it concerned his work.  
Suddenly James glanced over at him. Directly in his direction and actually winked. It all happened in the split of a second. Sebastian wasn’t even really sure that it had actually happened.   
‘You’re not ordinary. No. You’re me. You’re me. Thank you. Sherlock Holmes. Thank you. Bless you. As long as I’m alive, you can save your friends. You’ve got a way out. Well, good luck with that.’  
And with that, the world ended. 

Much later Sebastian still couldn’t remember whether he had really heard the gunshot or if there had been no sound at all. He simply couldn’t tell.  
When he had arrived on the roof, after watching Holmes’ pathetic little speech, not even waiting to actually see him jump anymore, there was no body. Only a puddle of blood.  
And Sebastian couldn’t stay much longer. He could hear so many people running upstairs towards the roof. He knew Scotland Yard would have sent a team. It was all too dangerous and even though he felt more than sick, he managed to get out of there.   
Again, he had no memory left of how he had done it.  
***  
“Sir?”   
Sebastian turned around a frown on his features. The frown was actually always there. It never disappeared and to be honest, Sebastian couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t frowned.  
“I... I was just wondering… I mean, I know you’re busy and…”  
The girl was young. Probably about 20 years old. Sebastian couldn’t remember accepting her to work as his secretary but he always was in control of all his employees.   
She was no harm. Nobody could harm him or his work. It simply wasn’t possible.  
One year after James’ death, he was still there. James had blown his own brains out but Sebastian had stayed. He had been drunk and miserable for a bit more than a week before finally deciding to be angry.   
What in the world was wrong with that little shite anyway?! He had always known that James was completely insane. It probably was a miracle that James had been able to get as far as he had.   
“What? What is it?” Sebastian came closer, a threatening look on his face. He didn’t want to waste any time. Especially not with some stupid girl that couldn’t form a straight sentence.  
“A.. a Mr. Magnussen is here for you.”  
“Magnussen?” Sebastian took a deep breath. He had heard about that guy.   
Disgusting man. American.   
He shook his head and thought for a moment. He couldn’t let that man wait because sooner or later he would hear from him again.  
“Send him in.”  
It was as if Magnussen had been listening at the door like some ten-year-old boy. As soon as Sebastian had said the words and the girl turned around again, the American was in, with two of his bodyguards.   
“That would be all.”   
Sebastian dismissed the girl – he should really try to remember her name some day – and sat down behind his desk.   
“How may I help you, Mr. Magnussen?” he asked as politely as he could while that man looked around in the office as if it was the most disgusting place he’d ever sat a foot in.  
“Oh… nothing very important.” A smug grin that was probably supposed to make Sebastian angry – a smug smile that would have made Sebastian angry a year ago, but now it wasn’t important enough.  
He didn’t say anything and just watched Magnussen and the two other men.  
“I wanted to see for myself. You know… I’ve known your father. A great businessman. Obviously, his son is just alike.”   
Sebastian didn’t do as much as to bat an eye, even though, now he was getting slightly frustrated.   
Magnussen was still standing.   
“Please, sit down, Mr. Magnussen.” Sebastian waved over to one of the chairs, but the other man just snorted.   
“Oh no, thank you. I’d rather stand. It won’t be long.”   
Again he looked around, wrinkling his nose.   
“It seems like Moriarty’s death hasn’t changed anything here. Tell me, did you use him as a pawn?”   
“Excuse me?”  
“It was a chess reference.”  
“I am aware.”  
“Well, everything seems to be just splendid for you. Moriarty’s death did nothing to harm your success. Were you always the one to pull the strings? ”  
Sebastian snorted. “What kind of difference would that make, now?”  
“Oh, none, I suppose.” Magnussen grinned “You lived together, you and James. You’ve met him when he was just a kid. I’m wondering what things have been going on between the two of you.”  
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “I have no idea what you are hinting at.”  
“I’m not hinting at anything at all. I am wondering how far you’ve been going with a seventeen-year-old boy. I’ve seen pictures. He always looked so much younger than he was – well, not the last few years of his life but before… Do you have a thing for young, little boys, Mr. Moran?”  
For the first time since he had seen James shoot himself, Sebastian felt his stomach twisting but he kept quiet.   
Didn’t let any reaction show.  
It would be the wrong one.   
This man knew how to manipulate stories and facts and probably emotions until they served his will.  
Magnussen grinned. “Well, never mind. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”  
“Get along?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow.   
“Of course. You can stay and play your little game even when the time has come for me to reign Britain… Dramatic, your country, really it is.” Magnussen chuckled and turned to leave, leaving Sebastian feeling as if he’d just been kicked in his nuts.  
“Oh, before I forget it… Did you find a way to take care of Sherlock Holmes yet?”  
“We’re working on it.”  
“He almost caused you serious harm, didn’t he?”  
“We got him in Serbia. We will not return.”  
“Let’s hope for the best.”   
***  
The Magnussen Problem got worse and worse. He would pay Sebastian regular visits after some time. But there were two things that truly made things even more fucked up.   
Holmes escaped with the help of his brother and with every visit, Magnussen seemed to know more about his relationship towards James. Not that he had really ever done something to harm the younger one, but there were probably worse things that he couldn’t let anyone of his clients or men know.  
Sebastian was trapped. He didn’t know what to do next, for the first time in ages he couldn’t even imagine a way to get rid of Magnussen. The blackmail material seemed endless.  
And then, one day, Magnussen strolled into his office, telling him that there was nothing to worry anymore. That Sherlock was as good as taken care of.   
Sebastian imagined shooting him into his right knee.   
That he would even have Mycroft under his control by the end of the year.  
The left knee.  
That it would all be Sherlock’s own fault for always thinking he could win and his need to show off.  
Right shoulder.  
That he would destroy the whole Holmes Clan by snapping his fingers.  
Left shoulder.  
That Moriarty should have thought of it that way instead of acting like a dramatic teenager.  
Last shot. Right through one of Magnussen’s fucking eyeball.   
Instead, Sebastian only nodded. But as soon as the man had left, he all but destroyed the whole office before leaving to go home. 

It was the first night in almost three years that he was drinking. A lot.  
He knew he should go to bed when he couldn’t recall why his glass was full again and the clock said that three hours had passed that he had no memory off, but Sebastian ignored it. Taking the glass, he went over to his laptop and checked the CCTV system. He knew nothing would be going on. But he did it anyway. While he looked over the different screens, something caught his eye. A shadow maybe. Something that reminded him of something, but he wasn’t sure what. Blinking Sebastian rubbed his eyes and looked again. A man walking down a lonely street. Could be anyone. He shook his head and closed his laptop, deciding that he did need sleep. 

He didn’t return to his office.   
Every important deal was made from the house. He hardly sat a foot out of it for two months. It was Christmas when he finally felt like he could go outside again. The day that Magnussen would finally get rid of Sherlock Holmes.   
Sebastian was frustrated. He walked around the town, without a real aim.  
If anyone, he deserved to take Holmes down. He didn’t want to see Magnussen win. Not that, if he would do what Magnussen told him to – which wouldn’t be hard, actually – he couldn’t have a great life, quite the opposite. It would be calmer and he would still have enough money and power to do whatever he wanted, but it wasn’t what he wanted anymore.  
No, he wanted to make this empire the only one.   
Fuck Magnussen!

It was late. Sebastian was slightly intoxicated and it was cold.   
His phone beeped. Annoyed he ignored it but it wouldn’t stop.  
With cold fingers, he fished for it in the pocket of his coat and looked at the glowing screen.

MISS ME?

Sebastian frowned in disbelieve. What the fuck was that? 

GO HOME AND TURN THE TELLY ON. NOW.

Yeah, sure. Sebastian shook his head. Whoever it was that was texting him, right now, better be completely hammered. Sebastian wasn’t easily angry and he knew exactly who had his number. This was his private phone after all. It had to be one of the people that were working for him for years and he didn’t think getting angry because of a stupid text would be worth it.

Piss off. SM

YOU’D BETTER NOT TALKING TO ME LIKE THAT, SEBASTIAN. NOW DO AS I TOLD YOU. 

Now it wasn’t funny anymore. He didn’t care about getting prank texts but being ordered around like that wasn’t something that he could tolerate. It simply was inappropriate.  
Still, he decided to wait until the festive days would be over to make sure to catch whoever it was sober and make sure he or she would know exactly what would be coming.  
He slowly went towards his home and his phone beeped again. A call this time. That was quick.  
With a deep sigh, Sebastian answered it.  
“Did you already hear the news?”  
“What? What news?”  
“It’s everywhere! Every bloody telly in the country!”   
“What are you talking about?”  
“Where are you?”  
“Near Piccadilly Circus.”  
“See for yourself then. It’s fucking everywhere!”  
Sebastian started to run. Cold sweat was starting to run over his forehead. What could possibly have happened? What?!  
And then he saw it. Not that there were many people on the streets but those who were, were all staring up at the big screens with the face on it. That face that….  
Sebastian ended the call without another word.

Where are you? SM

There was no reply this time. Sebastian couldn’t believe it. Had he gone mad? This wasn’t possible. Or…?  
“Hey, ‘bastian.”  
Nope, not that voice. Sebastian glanced over his shoulder. Yes, that voice.   
“We should go. People might be stupid, but give them a picture about 100m² big and they’ll recognize me rather quickly, I presume.”  
The figure went off and Sebastian couldn’t help but to follow him as if the last three years hadn’t happened.   
He unlocked the door to the house and let the man in.   
Still, he hadn’t said a single word. He couldn’t.  
“Well?”  
It definitely was James. He had now gotten rid of coat, gloves, scarf and hat. He wasn’t wearing one of his precious suits that he had come to love after having enough money. He wasn’t at all looking like the last time, Sebastian had seen him. Only the dark circles around his eyes were still there.  
“Well?!” Sebastian repeated utterly bewildered. “WELL?!! Why the hell are you even alive?!”  
James had the nerves to smirk.  
“That was a strong emotion, mhh? People don’t tend to have those if they don’t care… So, I’m guessing you did miss me.” He grabbed the telly remote and turned the screen on. The face was still there.  
“I want to know how long it takes them to hack past this.”  
James turned the volume off and looked at Sebastian. “You look awful.”  
“What do you want here?”  
James raised an eyebrow. “You could at least pretend to be happy to see me, y’know?”  
Sebastian shook his head. “I would… but you chose not to have any friends, remember? What is this show about?”  
“Oh…” James cocked his head to one side. “I didn’t want to let Sherly die, of course.”  
“What?!”  
“Did you get slow up there?” James tipped his index finger against his temple. “Did you hear what happened to our friend Magnussen?”   
Sebastian shook his head, frowning down on James, watching him as the younger one went to get two glasses and a bottle of expensive scotch that Sebastian only had because it looked good.   
“Mr. Charles Augustus Magnussen” James drawled pouring both of them a drink “is dead.” He grinned now. Sebastian wasn’t sure if he had heard right.  
“Dead?” Sebastian only heard himself repeating the word. He couldn’t remember actually saying it.  
“Yes, Holmes shot him right in the face. Isn’t that delightful?”  
“I don’t know.”  
Now it was James turn to look bewildered. Clearly he hadn’t expected that reaction.  
“I saw someone else getting shot in the fucking face and now he’s drinking my fucking scotch.”  
They stared at each other. It seemed like hours until James let out a long breath that slowly turned into a chuckle.   
“I’ve missed you, too. And I have to say, I’m positively surprised. You did great work.” Sebastian slumped down on his couch as James paced through the room like a wild animal in a cage.   
“I needed to get out of everything for a while. And then Magnussen appeared and I couldn’t go back. I also had no chance to get rid of him. At least not from my position.”  
Sebastian let James explain and tell his story for hours, without interrupting him once. He was fairly certain that James could have told him that he was alive. That he could have come back. That they would have found a way together somehow. That it would have been possible without making Sherlock Holmes a hero again. But he never said it. It didn’t matter. He let James tell him, how Magnussen’s whole archive had only existed in his brain. How it was all gone now.  
He wasn’t sure what to say. What to do. Part of him still wanted to kick James out again, but he knew that would never going to happen. 

 

When he opened his eyes, around noon the next day he was convinced that everything had been a dream.  
But when he turned around, he felt naked skin against his own bare chest. James.   
“You little wanker” he muttered, staring down at the tiny man that was lying next to him, sprawled out, looking so much younger than usual, almost innocent.  
“Good morning to you, too.” Even his voice was tiny as James opened an eye, smirking lazily up to Sebastian.   
“How ‘bout you make us some breakfast… and afterwards, we’ll discuss what to do next.”  
“Us and we?” Sebastian shook his head. “That’s new.”  
“I don’t like making a mere pet equal to me. But you proofed that you’re more than that. You’re not some puppy. You’re a tiger and you’re worthy being called my equal. An equal that makes breakfast, alright? Pretty please.”   
Sebastian had already gotten up during that speech.   
“That’s too much modesty for a morning, James. Shut up.”   
He put on some shorts and left the room.   
“Modesty’s boring!”

Well, it seemed like things would go back to normal after all. Or rather no… They didn’t. Things were a lot better, now.  
James was a man of his word after all. Sebastian was equal to him now. He wasn’t being ignored or shrugged off. Not anymore. And that would give him the chance to make sure that James wouldn’t be able to lose his mind over that bloody detective ever again. At least not like that. And that would mean that they would be able to tear his life apart themselves.   
Piece by piece.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey,  
> I'd like to thank everyone who made it through the whole thing for reading!  
> And since English isn't my native language, I'd appreciate it if you could tell me if you find any mistakes! :)  
> Thank you all!


End file.
